


Life Is No Home Game

by NewLeeland



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And small oneshots, But these are various scenes, Cassian can cook, Christmas tree heists, Cuddling, Earl Tarkin, F/M, Fake pillow Cassian, Fluff, Football/Soccer is prominent, Galen too, Groundskeeper Krennic, History, Human K-2SO, Just like Lyra, Jyn loves pillows, M/M, Mild FIFA bashing, National Anthems, Not all involve football/soccer, pillows, political discussions, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLeeland/pseuds/NewLeeland
Summary: A collection of oneshots that take place in a Modern AU, featuring soon-to-be college grads Jyn and Cassian, Jyn's parents (and professors) Galen and Lyra and their circle of friends.The oneshots are not necessarily chronological.The first four oneshots were originally posted on my Tumblr blog and evolved around the 2018 FIFA Men's World Cup play-off matches between the national teams of Denmark and Ireland.





	1. Denmark - Ireland, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, considering the football (soccer) men’s national teams of Denmark and Ireland are contending for a spot at the FIFA Men’s World Cup in Russia next year, I had an idea for a brief Modern AU scene.
> 
> Considering Mads Mikkelsen (Galen) is Danish and Valene Kane (Lyra) is Irish - Northern Irish though, but I hope our Irish & English faction won’t hurt me for “making her ROI” in this one - what about some friendly banter between the pair witnessed by Jyn?

* * *

Jyn had always found it hard to believe when multiple family friends or relatives told her that her parents had been everything but enamored when they had met. Quite the opposite to be exact.

No, it wasn’t quite like in the movies: Misunderstandings leading to a big fight with both of them realizing how attractive they found the other’s passion. It was slower, a few factual, even cold talks about their overlapping study fields. Yes, both respected each other’s work and Lyra’s passion and conviction was something Galen’s more sober approach needed sometimes. In the end, both had stopped being formal and their now-united research had received widespread praise.

They had fallen in love outside of work. The boring, un-movie like way.

Still, Jyn was always skeptical, especially considering most people tended to exaggerate in their stories to make them more memorable. Throughout her childhood and teenage years, Jyn had never once witnessed them fighting, not even in smaller forms. Granted, they both still worked at university and not always together, so maybe they did all their fighting there. Maybe not.

Which was why the banter she heard today while coming down the stairs was a surprise for her.

“You should be happy they even made it that far. Plus, we had a much harder group. We deserve this.”

“Pah. We had a group with four teams at eye level. Your lot just screwed up. Without Eriksen, you would be out already.”

“And you without McClean.”

“It’s /mˈkleɪn/! Get it into your thick Viking head.”

“And it’s  ˈsmɑjˀɡl̩! Don’t act like you’re any better.”

Ah, football. Jyn sighed. One never suspected academics, especially professors like Galen and Lyra, to be such ardent football fans. Most of the time, they got along fine. Their favourite clubs never played against each other on any level, so each could wholeheartedly support the other. The national teams, though, were a different topic.

Lyra might have been a bit more “patriotic”, which was why Jyn even could speak a little Gaelic. (Which made her grandparents love their only granddaughter even more.) But Galen, normally the one to hold back, sniped back just as fiercely.

When Jyn made it into the kitchen for breakfast, her father had just launched what promised to be a detailed speech about Danish successes in the past two-hundred years with special focus on football, but also in the fields of science.

“Morning,” Jyn trilled joyfully, enjoying how both of them tried to regain their composure. As if anyone in the house would not have heard it.

“Before you ask, no, I’m not siding with one of you. And I won’t be there for the game either. Bodhi, Cassian and I are meeting at the Irish pub. You know, Chirrut’s.” (An Irish pub maintained by a pair of Chinese gentlemen might sound suspicious, but their food and beer wasn’t.) “And no, papa, that’s not ‘joining your mother’s camp’.”

Galen, who had raised his hand in a parody of disbelief, gave her a little smile. “Ah, Stardust, we would keep it down, really. After twenty minutes, when it is all over, your mother will need all the consolation she can get and I’m not sure…”

“Excuse me!”

With that, it started again. Jyn just grinned mildly as she buttered her toast. She loved her parents and hearing them banter was funny, a side of them their students or colleagues rarely got to see.

Still, a quiet evening - well, as quiet as a pub full of Irish fans could be - was also tempting. She felt a bit bad for Bodhi, considering he would be the third wheel once Jyn and Cassian would start their “soul-gazing” as their friend called it. Sometimes, she wondered if Bodhi regretted introducing Jyn to her boyfriend. But no, that wouldn’t be Bodhi.

(Plus, considering his great character, his all around pleasant personality and his good looks, Bodhi would have it easy to pick up someone himself if Jyn and Cassian found more pleasant things to do than watching the game. Chirrut always claimed not seeing anything when he caught them frenching behind the bar and Baze just shook his head before retrieving what he needed and leaving them to continue their definitely PDAs.)

They were still bantering when Jyn put on her parka - a gift from Cassian - to leave for a quick run to the supermarket. Opening the door halfway, she turned around.

“You know, I don’t know what all the fuss is about? Cassian’s team and England already qualified.”

She grinned to herself as both reacted with a wave of jocose indignation she could even hear through the closed door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christian Eriksen = Danish midfielder and star player of the team. Scored eight of his country’s twenty goals during the first round of WC qualification.
> 
> James McClean (/mˈkleɪn/) = Irish midfielder who scored four goals during the first round of WC qualification, including crucial game winning goals in away games versus Moldova, Austria and, most importantly, Wales.
> 
> Schmeichel (ˈsmɑjˀɡl̩) = Kasper Schmeichel, son of Peter Schmeichel (who won the European Championship with Denmark back in 1992), currently Denmark’s first choice goalkeeper.


	2. Denmark - Ireland, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sleepykalena and crazy-fruit, who had so kind words for me when reading the first part. The “morning after” the match, it ended 0-0. All to play for in the second leg.

* * *

“Jyn” - Cassian was close to pleading and that was something he usually never did - “are you sure it is a good idea to visit them now? I mean after you, eh, we were away the entire night.”

Jyn patted his arm comfortingly. “You worry too much, darling. Plus, we’re in our mid-twenties, it’s not like I’m sneaking out.”

Cassian knew how to keep his facial expressions unreadable for most people, but either it was due to the lack of sleep or because she knew him well enough, but Jyn could sense her words hadn't comforted him. Her parents were easy-going and Cassian was an intelligent, quiet and very caring kind of guy. ‘Marriage material’ her grandmother had said, adding a quick ‘only if you’d like too.’

She wasn’t wrong.

Jyn admitted she might be a little bit cruel, but she found his nervous look right now cute. He said nothing though and allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs leading to the front door.

Once Jyn had opened it with her keys, they were immediately welcomed by Lyra’s strong, badinaging voice.

“Danish Dynamite? More like Danish Barrel Burst. Even I did expect more from them. Four strikers and one attacking midfielder worth fifty millions alone - or so they claim - and how many chances did you have? Three at the most?”

“At least we tried to attack,” Galen replied, a bit enervated. “All your lot did was park the bus and clear the ball as far as they could every time they got a sight of it. 28 percent of possession! This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but at least our attacks were dangerous.” Lyra was undiscerning.

“Dangerous? Like that one shot that went towards the corner flag?”

“That’s rich coming from a supporter of team who only got into the penalty area just before the end.”

“How were we supposed to get in there? It was filled with Irishmen!”

Cassian reminded her of an animal about to bolt and flee but, with a smile that was very similar to the one’s her mother had when she was needling Galen, she pushed the helpless Mexican into their kitchen.

“Papa, Mama, I’m home. And look who I brought with me!”

Both turned around immediately, clearly not having heard Jyn and Cassian enter. Galen seemed a little bit more embarrassed. Lyra liked Cassian (Jyn did not know that after she had first introduced him to Lyra, her mother had taken him aside and told him in a friendly but distinct way what would happen to him if he hurt Jyn in any form. Cassian had no idea what ‘coilleadh’ meant, but he was sure he would never ever want to find out. Lyra was scary. Scarier than Jyn’s godfather, an ex-soldier named ‘Saw’.)

“Cassian, so nice of you to join us.” Lyra was all warmth as she guided him to an empty seat next to her. “Can I offer you two some breakfast? Galen and I were just discussing yesterday’s match. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

Jyn slipped on the chair next to him, continuing to enjoy the awkward situation she maneuvered her boyfriend in. They had seen it. Well, parts of it. When they were not making out.

“Eh, yes, yes, we did,” he replied, trying to find his usual calm self. “Very competitive. Hard-fought. Hotly contested. Fulfilled the expectations. The cards aren’t checked against either team.”

Sweet heaven, was he stammering? Jyn slid a bit closer to him, linking her left foot with his right as some sort of moral support. But Cassian only continued blushing.

Thankfully, Galen and Lyra were both back at sniping at each other and ignored the reddening Mexican and their smirking daughter.

“Speaking of cards. The referee seemed to have forgotten his. These blatant fouls in the final fifteen minutes. He was sparing them suspensions!”

“You need to read the rules more clearly, Galen dear. Learn what is defined as SPA and what is not.”

Cassian’s pleading side glance only made Jyn laugh more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Danish Dynamite’: Back in 1992, the UEFA suspended Yugoslavia from participating in the European Championship in Sweden despite the fact the team had qualified. The reason: the raging civil war in the country. Denmark, runners-up in the group from which Yugoslavia qualified, were invited instead. They only got a week’s notice to prepare a squad - and won the tournament, so far for the only time in their history. There are a lot of stories surrounding this win and the team earned the nickname ‘Danish Dynamite’.
> 
> I hope my Gaelic dictionary did not lie to me when I searched for the word I used.
> 
> SPA = Stopping a Promising Attack. A yellow card offense in football/soccer. The exact definition would take up too much space here.


	3. Ireland - Denmark, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second leg of the 2018 FIFA Men’s World Cup play-off between Ireland and Denmark will be played today, so have another scene from the AU. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I have nothing against any of the nations or anthems mentioned. Neither is this oneshot in any way meant as a political statement on any of the issues touched in it.
> 
> For @crazy-fruit, @sleepykalena and @letthepeoplesay-oh.
> 
> (Sorry for POV shifts.)

* * *

_Sent by: Cassian_ : Are you sure it is a good idea to have lunch with your parents today?

_Sent by: Jyn:_ Ah, is the Captain afraid of two professors? I promise, they’ll keep it down. It’s still a few hours until kick-off.

_Sent by:_ _Cassian:_ I’m not afraid! But isn’t the, well, let’s say tension higher than before? You know, I love your mom and dad. I just don’t want them to feel forced to ‘behave’ just because we are around.

_Sent by: Jyn:_ As if that would stop them! I can very well remember the ‘Cursed Hand of Gaul Incident’. Grandpa Haakon is still a bit scared of mama.

_Sent by: Cassian:_ See that’s what I’m afraid of!

_Sent by: Jyn:_ AHA! So you are afraid.

_Sent by: Cassian:_ …

_Sent by: Cassian:_ I see you at twelve.

_Sent by: Jyn:_ I love you too.

_Sent by: Cassian:_ <3

* * *

“You know, Lyra, I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better for your team to lose the first match. I mean, the disappointment will be so much greater if you blunder the home match. Don’t you think?”

The look his wife gave Galen made Cassian shudder a bit. Jyn merely smirked, but reassuringly squeezed his thigh under the table. However, this just brought him some other sort of discomfort apparently, as he twitched a bit, his face reddening.

“Are you alright, Cassian? You look a bit flushed.” Lyra had decided to ignore her husband’s mocking question. But she couldn’t hide a smile of her own when she looked at the Mexican. _They are adorable. So obvious, and yet acting like spies they clearly aren’t._

“No, no, the spices are just really good. Really hot.” He offered an apologetic smile. “It seems like I’m not as used to that as I back home. Funny how it works.”

“Speaking of Mexico,” Galen intervened, “how is ‘El Tri’ faring so far? They had some friendly matches, hadn’t they?”

“Yes,” Cassian answered visibly glad about the change of subject. “Did very well too. Drew 3-3 with Belgium and beat Poland 1-0 just yesterday. I hope we might have just a bit more luck next year. Would be nice to get to the quarter-finals again.”

“I remember the match against the Netherlands. I would have been very angry if that had happened to my team back then.” Lyra nodded.

“Well, let’s hope we won’t have to blame the referee today, sweetheart. I hope you’ll loose fair and square.”

Lyra merely scoffed. “You really believe you can score in Dublin, in front of our home crowd when you didn’t even manage to do so at home? Pff. By the way, the Irish fans were the only ones I could hear singing or chanting.”

It was Galen’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “Loud singing or chanting can’t make up for quality on the field. The Italians sang their anthem so passionately yesterday and it did nothing for them.”

“You’re just jealous that your own anthem does not rouse passions. ‘Amhrán na bhFiann’ on the other hand…”

“… is martial and over-the-top. _A Soldier's’ Song_ ? _‘Out yonder waits the Saxon foe? Tonight we man the “bearna baoil”/In Erin’s cause, come woe or weal/’Mid cannon’s roar and rifles’ peal/We’ll chant a soldier’s song.’_ And: _We’re children of a fighting race/That never yet has known disgrace/And as we march, the foe to face/We’ll chant a soldier’s song?’_ Please.”

“You know fully well that the lyrics were written back when the entire Irish isle was occupied. Your own _‘Der er et yndigt land’_ has some lines like these as well. _‘There sat in former times/the armour-suited warriors/rested from conflict/Then they went forward to the enemies’ injury/now their bones are resting/behind the mound’s menhir.’_ ”

“Yes, but we clearly say it is in the past. Also, the rest of it merely states how beautiful the country is and that we wish it may endure. That’s the way it should be. Don’t you think so, Cassian?”

The addressed hesitated for a moment, torn between Galen’s and Lyra’s questioning glances while Jyn failed miserably at hiding a cat-like smile. Oh, how she did enjoy this. Cassian was always so calm and collected, sometimes frustratingly so. Seeing him a bit unhinged from time to time was funny. (But only because she knew her parents would never overstep certain boundaries.)

“I agree. Especially considering how heated up international relations have become, at least the official representations of the countries, like anthems, should be peaceful and approachable.” Cassian had spoken gravely, as he felt they had touched a sensitive topic.

“Interesting,” Jyn mussed. “If I remember the Mexican anthem correctly, it is just the opposite. _‘Mexicans, at the cry of war/make ready the steel and the bridle/and may the Earth tremble at its core/at the resounding roar of the cannon. War, war! without quarter to any who dare/to tarnish the coats of arms of the country!/War, war! Let the national banners/be soaked in waves of blood.’_  No offense, Cassian, but isn’t this one just as martial, no, not even more so than the Irish one?” Jyn really meant no offense, but yet she felt obliged to ask considering Cassian did have his own slightly patriotic bouts. They were never offensive or nationalistic, but now that the topic was on the table, she felt like asking.

He nodded, scooping up rice with his spoon. “It was written in Santa Anna’s time and I can’t deny we have a violent history. Still have so much violence.” Cassian’s face darkened and Jyn immediately felt guilt rise up in her. Her boyfriend took the problems of his country very seriously and bringing them up just for a few jibes was something she shouldn’t have done.

“But you know, the story of how the text was written is quite funny.” He must have noticed her change of mood and gave her one of his smiles reserved only for Jyn and the brightness returned to the room. “The lyricist, Francisco González Bocanegra, was a romantic poet and wasn’t interested when Santa Anna announced there would be a competition and the best entry would win. He thought that writing romantic poetry was something entirely different than an anthem. His fiancée, a woman named Guadalupe, though was convinced he had what it took. So she prodded him to participate, but he wouldn’t relent. Their friends tried to convince him as well, but failed.”

He seemed to have forgotten that Galen and Lyra were there, his eyes were firmly on Jyn and it had something worshipping the way he looked at her. Jyn wanted to divert her gaze - her parents were at the table for heaven’s sake - but found herself caught like a deer in the headlights. Her cheeks flushed, but it wasn’t due to the the spicy rice.

“So she lured him into her secluded bedroom in her parent’s house under some pretense and locked him in there. She had pictures depicting events from Mexico’s history up in the entire room and refused to let him out until he had produced an entry. Four hours later, he had ten verses written. But his fiancée wasn’t that easily convinced. He had to slip his lyrics under the door and only after Guadalupe and her father had read and approved of them, she released him again. He won by unanimous vote.”

Thinking about it, the story absolutely sounded like something Jyn would do. Hopefully, he did not inspire her.

(On the other hand though…)

Galen broke the spell by clearing his throat. “A great story indeed.”

Jyn, eyes still fixed on her plate, added. “Hmm. But I also liked your earlier point about the anthem’s content. That’s why I’d prefer the Hickson’s version of our anthem. You know: _‘May peace her power extend/Foe be transformed to friend/And Britain’s rights depend/On war no more.’_ It is way more fitting for today, wouldn’t you agree?”

All of them nodded. Even Lyra who despite her occasional Irish pride was actually very happy her daughter was at home in the country she was born in.

Cassian, feeling a bit ungrateful for dampening the mood, broke the silence. “Lyra, have you seen[ the Carlsberg advertisement in Ireland today? ‘Come on Ireland. (Don’t tell the boss in Copenhagen.)?”](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.thesun.ie%2Fsport%2Ffootball%2F1800425%2Fdanish-football-association-hits-out-at-carlsbergs-skit-dublin-billboards-and-calls-for-free-beer-for-travelling-danish-fans-ahead-of-crunch-world-cup-clash%2F&t=ZmM5MTA0YmM3NmFlNDI0NmYxOGZhMTAwMzc1YzE5YmRhYzdkNWU5OCw1NTZRdWtQWg%3D%3D&b=t%3AXIbIyMJ_Ewro1-CMS4OLVw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fthenewleeland.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167485846516%2Fden-irl-part-three-or-irl-den-part-one&m=1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will learn more about the “Cursed Hand of Gaul Incident” in another scene from this AU.
> 
> ‘El Tri’ is the nickname of the Mexican national team.
> 
> Mexico was eliminated back in the 2014 FIFA Men’s World Cup in the Round of 16, losing to the Netherlands 2-1 in the final minutes after taking the lead through Giovani dos Santos. The game-winning goal was scored in the fourth minute stoppage time after a highly-disputed penalty call by the Portuguese referee Pedro Proença.
> 
> Antonio López de Santa Anna was a Mexican politician and general who held several positions in Mexico during the 19th century, sometimes being called an ‘uncrowned king’. It was Santa Anna who fought against the Texans during the Texas Revolution and in the Mexican-American War.


	4. Ireland - Denmark, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bad day for Lyra as Ireland crashed to a 1-5 defeat after being 1-0 up. Let’s see how they all deal with it.
> 
> Thanks @letthepeoplesay-oh for the excellent story idea and to @sleepykalena and @crazy-fruit for the never wavering support!

* * *

Lying in a warm, cozy bed with Jyn’s head resting on his chest, Cassian regretted coming up with a plan to cheer up Lyra before going to bed yesterday.

The two of them had preferred to watch the game at home instead of joining Galen and Lyra or Baze and Chirrut at the bar. Bodhi was on a date, Kes and Shara were visiting family and Kay was still on his away mission in Cambodia. So they had curled up on the couch with a few beers and some snacks, watched Ireland crash after a bright start and had speculated what effects the result would have on the Erso household.

Cassian was rather neutral in the whole affair and so was Jyn to some extent. Still, the game was hard to watch sometimes as several goals were scored due to some shambolic defending. When it was over, it was Cassian who had instantly suggested heading over to Galen and Lyra’s house tomorrow and surprise Lyra with a self-prepared meal.

“Papa has always been a noble winner. Mama, well, after some time. I don’t think they’re cross with each other, but she will be very disappointed. Not as much as the last time, but still,” Jyn had said, veering a strand of her brown hair on her finger, a telltale sign of slight nervousness. Cassian had planned to cook anyway (Jyn could too, but she preferred his food and let’s face it, he would do anything to make her happy), so it was the logical choice to suggest extending the lunch to four people instead just the two of them.

Which meant they had to get up early to buy some additional ingredients, as they had only gotten enough for themselves. Carefully shifting Jyn’s surprisingly heavy head on one of her numerous pillows, Cassian failed miserably at trying to extract himself from his girlfriend’s embrace. Despite having four larger and two smaller pillows, Jyn preferred sleeping on his chest, arms and legs tangled with his. Cassian would never dream of complaining about it, but he wanted to get up early and head out for the ingredients without waking her. There was no need for both of them to forfeit some additional sleep.

But although Jyn was small and did not weigh a lot, she was an expert in entangling his body. While he managed to gently transfer her head to a pillow, it didn’t help him much. Her left arm was still slung around his waist and her left leg was hooked with his right one. When he attempted to move, Jyn made a noise to convey her disapproval and tightened her hold. With a sigh, Cassian dropped back into the bed, carefully maneuvering her head back on his chest. Jyn rewarded him with a contented sigh.

(She reminded him of a cat sometimes.)

The shopping tour would have to wait a few more minutes.

* * *

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m happy you are here, Stardust. And you too, Cassian, of course.” Galen had yet to shave and his greying stubble made him look older. “Lyra was pretty disappointed. Not mad, not at me at least, but a meal would definitely be a good idea to heighten her spirits!”

Cassian just grinned as he finished unpacking the grocery bags. “My pleasure, Sir. My Mom always used to cheer me up with my favorite meal when I was down. It feels right doing for Lyra now.”

“You picked a fine one, Jyn,” Galen nodded approvingly. “And please, call me Galen. I’ve told you to for the last two years,” he added gently.

Convinced ‘her two boys’ would be alright, Jyn left the kitchen to check on her mother. Lyra was an early bird, but it was already ten o’clock and she hadn’t left the bedroom according to Galen. Jyn could understand that, considering she dealt with her problems either by talking to a close person (her parents, Cassian or, when both weren’t available, Bodhi. Although, to be fair, Baze’s gruff advice was also helpful, Chirrut’s tips were more odd, but had a surprising success rate and even Kay sometimes stunned her by being helpful. His rather no-nonsense attitude could unveil entirely different points of view.) or by retreating and having some alone time.

Tiptoeing upstairs, Jyn sneaked towards her parents’ bedroom. Anticipating the need to come back and check on her again, Galen had left the door a tiny bit open, so it was easy for her to take a gander. Her mother was still sleeping and for a brief moment, Jyn wondered if she looked the same while she was asleep. (She definitely had inherited her mother’s love for pillows.)

Returning downstairs, Cassian had already prepared several pans on the cooker, filled with oil, vegetables and chicken meat. Galen was cutting some paprikas. Her father found it relaxing to cook, but they way he did it sometimes made it kinda look like he was conducting experiments in a laboratory. Other times, he put some master chefs in the shade.

Jyn joined Cassian at the cooker, helping him by turning the food occasionally. Her boyfriend in the meanwhile collected the ingredients for the sauce.

They worked like a well-oiled team and Galen departed after some time, musing if he should fetch some Carlsberg or Guinness to go along with the meal. (Yes, it was lunch on a workday. So what?)

Jyn had to wonder about one more similarity she and her mother shared when Lyra appeared in the kitchen, a bit blue but otherwise fine. Jyn had the same intuition - Cassian had mentioned it quite often - that told her when food was ready.

Lyra’s mood visibly improved when she saw her daughter and her soon-to-be-son-in-law (She had a feeling he would propose. Although Galen and Cassian were very different people, Lyra’s hawk like senses hadn’t failed to notice slight clues in Cassian’s behaviour, but that was a story for another day.) prepare a meal that smelled delicious. Galen joined them a few moments later, having decided to go with a ‘neutral’ Fuller’s instead.

The lunch was pleasant and to Cassian’s slight relief, free of any form of bantering. When the topic of football was finally raised, they talked about the upcoming tournament in general. Galen was gracious enough not to mention yesterday’s match before his wife did first.

Lyra was passionate, but not blinded or undiscerning. She was the one who complained the loudest about the Irish defence, conceding that they had deservedly lost.

“Which leaves the question: Which team should I support a bit next year. No,” she immediately added when Jyn, Galen and even Cassian were about to advertise their respective nations, “not one of yours. I will support them too, of course. Yes, even the Danish, Galen. But I need another team. Any suggestions?”

The following discussion was just as passionate as the banter on the days before had been, but Cassian felt way more at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I left it open which team Lyra will support apart from Denmark, England and Mexico.


	5. The Draw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by today’s draw for the Men’s World Cup. Have another scene from this AU!
> 
> Dedicated to @sleepykalena, @crazy-fruit and @letthepeoplesay-oh.
> 
> I call this one: Fluff without plot.

* * *

It was amazing that despite the fact that their shared bed was home to a total of ten (10!) pillows, Cassian still had some room to sleep.

Jyn wouldn’t and couldn’t sleep without a minimum of six pillows. “I need a cold one at all times, Cassian,” she had said as if it would explain everything. But pillows were something that comforted Jyn and it comforted him to to see her sleep with a happy smile on her face, her small body almost entirely covered or surrounded by fluffy pillows. So why should he argue about a trivial matter like this one?

It was just fascinating how she ended up resting her head on his chest. Every single day. It didn’t matter how they fell asleep - Cassian sometimes came home a bit later, sometimes it was Jyn who snuggled under the covers when he was already dreaming. As long as they slept in the bed, he would wake up tangled under a snoring Jyn. (Not that he would tell her about the snoring. He quite liked his face.)

This morning hadn’t been any different, except that Jyn had been even more clingy. She was so independent, determined and strong in real life, but when she was asleep, getting away from her to stand up early was impossible. A part of him was 100 percent convinced that she was awake to some extent at the very least. How else could she feel he was about to move and tighten her grip immediately, burrowing closer to him?

So Cassian allowed himself to be lulled to sleep again, but at 9 a.m., he had to go. Jyn had been up late, finishing a paper and today she would only have to hand it in when the office opened in the afternoon.

Cassian had been well prepared for this eventuality and after careful maneuvering and distracting her by stroking the hair on her neck (she purred like a satisfied cat), he managed to free one arm. Fumbling with his free right hand, he quickly found a decoy he had made yesterday evening and hid under the bed.

It was a very poor one, truth be told. He had wrapped one fluffy pillow stuffed with a hot-water battle in one of his parkas and made sure the pillow was a bit more firm than a normal one so that Jyn’s head wouldn’t sink in and wake her.

Nevertheless, such an obvious ruse should never had worked, but Jyn was very tired and sound asleep. Three minutes later, Cassian stood at the door and watched as Jyn hugged fake-pillow-Cassian, humming contently. It was warm, comforting and the parka smelled a bit like him. He was half tempted to take a picture, but he knew Jyn would end his life if he showed it to any person. Bodhi would roll on the floor laughing, but even making him cry tears of joy wouldn’t be enough of a reward for Cassian to face Jyn’s wrath.

* * *

They had agreed to watch the draw at her parents’ house - Galen had invited them for dinner. Jyn’s father was almost as good a cook as Cassian and he wanted to repay the favour from the day after the play-off match between Ireland and Denmark.

Cassian had arrived earlier and exchanged some pleasantries with Lyra, who had fully recovered from seeing her side getting their World Cup dreams crushed. Cassian felt like there was something Lyra knew but wasn’t telling him. At least judging from the mischievous sparkle in her eyes her daughter had inherited.

Twenty minutes after him, Jyn came through the door, immediately slamming it shut behind her. Temperatures had dropped below zero degrees and a cold, biting wind was blowing around a few tiny snow flakes.

Cassian greeted her with a quick peck to the cheek. They might be rather ok with making it out at the pub, but not in front of her parents, really.

Jyn removed her blue fluffy parka and a warm scarf of the same colour that was embroidered with several small golden stars. Both had been presents from Cassian. The parka might have been a bit too large for her, but she looked cute and adorable in it. He couldn’t help but wonder that he found Jyn wearing these warm and snuggly clothes which almost entirely covered her infinitely more attractive than any other woman showing skin.

(Not that he was opposed to a less clothed Jyn. Still, she was so cute he wanted to cuddle with her on the couch right now, but that would have to wait until they got back to their place.)

“Don’t think for even a moment we won’t have a talk about the stunt you pulled in the morning,” she whispered into his ear with a syrupy voice when she kissed his cheek in turn. Cassian just grinned and before he could reply, Lyra joined them.

“You two better hurry if you don’t want to miss the start of the draw.”

“Mom, please, you know how much of a fuss they make out of it. I’d be surprised if we won’t have to endure at least three musical numbers and some fake-VIPs and big heads speechifying.”

“They said it will only take an hour today, Stardust,” Galen’s voice informed them from the kitchen.

“Dad, come on. I wouldn’t trust the FIFA to tell me the colour of the sky and the time of the day. What makes you think they’re telling the truth this time?”

* * *

As it turned out, the FIFA kept their word.

Jyn, Cassian, Galen and Lyra all had enough room on the Erso’s spacious couch and indeed after a comparatively short time, the draw started

The teams from pot one weren’t that interesting yet. Cassian’s Mexicans and England were in pot two, the Danish had missed that pot by a hairbreadth and would be drawn from pot three.

The first nations from pot two were more interesting. Uruguay found itself facing hosts Russia in Group A, while Group B got the Iberian derby between Spain and Portugal. France picked an easy one with Peru. Lyra grumbled a bit. She had never quite forgiven “Les Bleus” for the away they reached the 2010 tournament at Ireland’s expense.

Croatia and Switzerland joined Argentina and Brazil in their respective groups, so there were only three different groups left for Mexico or England.

“I do hope we can avoid Germany,” Cassian mumbled a bit. Jyn agreed with him. Belgium wasn’t an easy opponent and Poland and Lewandowski shouldn’t be underestimated either, but the defending champion was someone you’d want to beat at a later stage and not have to face early on.

A few seconds later, the name “Mexico” was revealed as the team to face Germany in Group G. Cassian groaned and got sympathetic glances from Galen and Lyra. Jyn slung her arm around his shoulders. When England was drawn and joined Belgium, she shrugged. “You’ll have to beat them eventually.”

Galen was a little more tense now, but he too had to wait. Egypt and Iran were added to Groups A and B before Denmark found a home in Group C.

“Not an easy one so far,” Jyn’s father said, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully. “The clash with France on the third matchday will be crucial.”

Cassian tensed a bit when it Mexico’s group came back into the spotlight. It did not get any easier. Sweden was the third team in the group and he barely held back another groan. The defending champion and a team that had eliminated powerhouse Italy. Tough.

The same couldn’t be said for England’s second opponent, Tunisia, but Jyn - a person people tended to underestimate considering her height - was quick to remind everyone how the Three Lions had only managed a goalless draw with Algeria back in 2010. She wouldn’t take any opponent lightly.

“A lot of luck for the hosts,” Lyra mumbled when Group A was completed.

“Indeed. I mean, no offence to Uruguay, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, but it could have been harder for the Russians.”

Morocco joined Spain, Portugal and Iran in Group B and then it was time for Denmark to learn its final competitor: Australia.

“Well, I do believe it is a rather open group. Australia does play very similar to Ireland though and we can compete with Peru’s physicality. I’m hopeful.”

Lyra just nudged her husband a bit with the elbow. “You’ll owe me some extra dessert for that.” Galen smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Jyn did the same for Cassian, as his Mexicans definitely got one of the hardest groups: South Korea was the last nation drawn to Group F.

He sighed. “Well, we’ll have to work hard and play more than solid if we want to proceed to the next round. It wasn’t easy in 2014 either.” There was his fighting spirit. Jyn smiled. It was just as strong as hers.

Jyn couldn’t help but exult when World Cup debutant Panama was revealed as England’s final opponent.

“If they don’t make it to the next round in that group, they don’t deserve it.” Jyn couldn’t disagree with her mother’s words.

Just as the final team - Japan - was included in Group H, Galen’s kitchen timer informed them dinner was ready.

They had a pleasant talk about their respective teams prospects during dinner and Lyra revealed she had yet to find a team to root for. This sparked various attempts by the other three to win her over for her camp, but Lyra wasn’t easily convinced.

“I could come over and cook more often,” Cassian suggested, doubtlessly hoping to tease Jyn a bit with the prospect of her mother joining his side. After all, England and Mexico just might meet in the quarter-finals.

“Please. It is obvious that she will eventually support her husband’s side. I’ll even cook you my famed _kanelsnegl_ every weekend,” he added much less boastfully.

“Tempting. And you?” Lyra asked Jyn. “What do you have to offer?”

Jyn just gave her puppy eyes Cassian hadn’t seen often. To be honest, only twice. “I’m your daughter. Isn’t that enough?”

Lyra nearly fell off her chair laughing.

* * *

Back in their own flat, Cassian turned around to ask Jyn about her plans for tomorrow when he was suddenly tackled to the ground.

He had entirely forgotten fake-pillow-Cassian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyra still isn’t over the “Cursed Hand of Gaul” incident.
> 
> [Robert] Lewandowski = Polish striker and captain, considered to be one of the best in the world
> 
> ALSO! Check out [this amazing fanart of fake pillow Cassian](https://sleepykalena.tumblr.com/post/168207947718/decoy-cassian-inspired-by-thenewleelands-soccer) by sleepykalena!


	6. The Christmas Tree Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, spontaneous ideas are the best ones.  
> Sometimes, they aren’t.
> 
> Or: Jyn ropes in Cassian and Bodhi to find a Christmas tree. Unbeknowst to them, she does not plan on buying it.
> 
> No, after an one hour drive, the find themselves in the private fir forest of Earl Tarkin. But claiming their prize and getting away isn’t easy, as they have to outwit Tarkin’s groundkeeper, the vindictive Orson Krennic….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're leaving soccer/football related oneshots and continue on to some season-related topics.
> 
> Thanks to [pingou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pingou/pseuds/pingou) for beta-reading this chapter. :)

* * *

Cassian was a tiny bit worried when Jyn had arrived at his office a few minutes past five in the evening, well wrapped up in the parka, scarf and warm balaclava (the first two ones were presents from Cassian, the latter one from her Danish grandma).

Jyn was always lively and full of energy, but this evening, her eyes had a certain mischievous spark. It reminded him a bit of cat and he couldn’t help but feel like a trapped mouse. Now Jyn would never devour him (only with her eyes from time to time), but he still felt like he had relinquished all the control he had of the situation from the moment she threw his own parka at him and sat on his desk, blocking his view of the screen.

Three minutes, two kisses and some gentle prodding later, he had consented to accompany her to get a Christmas tree for her parents. Christmas was still two weeks away, but she insisted that “the earlier the better” and he could not argue with such a carefully planned logic. His work for the day was finished too and Kay would only return tomorrow, so he had no reason not to indulge his girlfriend.

Bodhi was waiting in the backseat of their car, looking about as clueless as Cassian was. Nevertheless, the two of them fell into an easy conversation while Jyn drove on. It had been a few days since Cassian had seen their mutual friend and in the process of catching up, both failed to realize that Jyn drove past any Christmas tree vendor in the city without as much as a glance.

Only after Bodhi had finished the story of the airplane pilot and the ATCO and both had to laugh until tears were in their eyes, they realized they had left the busy streets of the city and found themselves on a rather empty and dark country road leading through lightly snowed fields.

“Eh, Jyn,” Cassian carefully began, noticing that her eyes sparked even more and a mischievous grin had joined them in signaling that something was afoot here. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Soon,” she replied, barely containing her laughter. Bodhi helplessly shrugged his shoulders, he clearly hadn’t been in on this plan. Their friend was wearing a thick jacket and gloves, so at least he wouldn’t freeze. Cassian knew how to survive in the wild - courtesy of camping trips with his father, although they were in an entirely different climate - and he had no doubt Jyn shared his experiences. If he hadn’t known her for years, he might have gotten the eerie feeling that they were driving towards some dark wooden cabin to meet their unfortunate end.

Two very silent minutes later, the headlights illuminated an elaborate sign made of iron. Jyn left the country road for another, smaller road and when they drove past the sign, he finally realized what she was up to.

_Earl Tarkin’s fir forest. Private Property! Trespassers beware! You will be dealt with in one swift stroke!_

Bodhi gasped. Maybe they would die tonight.

“Jyn,” Cassian began slowly, very well aware that outright criticism wouldn’t help to get Jyn to change her mind at all.

“This is a horrible, horrible idea,” Bodhi chimed in. “In fact, it is the worst I’ve heard since they installed the new Enhanced Ground Proximity Warning System in my plane that alerts you ten seconds before impact - enough to realize you are about to die horribly, but not enough to change anything about it.”

Jyn just snorted. “Be a bit more adventurous, will you boys?”

“Jyn, this is committing a theft. We could be arrested. You surely don’t want your father to have to bail us out?” Cassian knew that mentioning her parents usually got Jyn to calm down and think twice about something.

“I’ve heard the last guy they caught trespassing on the Earl’s ground nearly had a heart attack after being chased by those vile groundskeeper's hounds. Vicious creatures. And the groundskeeper looks like he came directly out of a horror movie. They even said the Earl had his own fully operational dungeon from the Middle Ages.”

“That’s bollocks, Bodhi, and you know it. He has dozens of square metres to cover and do you seriously believe he patrols all of them on a night like this? Pah. He won’t even realize if a tree is missing.”

Cassian resigned himself without much of a fight. Jyn had a personal vendetta with the Earl. William Tarkin was one of the major benefactors of their university and as such had been a common sight at the Christmas parties of the varsity. His interest in Galen’s research, however, was peculiar, especially as rumour had it that Tarkin had contacts with nearly all arms dealers in the world. Galen, on the other hand, showed no interest in weaponizing any of his findings.

In short: He would not be able to convince Jyn to turn the car around and forget about the bloody idea. Now it was upon him to get them out of this mess with all their limbs and without a trial for theft and trespassing.

* * *

If nothing else, Jyn had been well prepared. Three axes were waiting for them in the trunk, no chainsaws. “Too loud,” had been her reasoning and for once on this evening, he agreed with her.

Bodhi looked decidedly unhappy as the stood amidst trees as high as houses. The moon was rather full and in the country, they still could see the stars, but much of this natural light was blocked by the forest. Giving each of them a pocket lamp, Jyn led the way. (Bodhi needed a moment to decide to join them or stay in the car, but in the end, he preferred to accompany them than stay behind all by himself.)

“Do you have a plan?” Cassian mumbled through the thick scarf covering his face from the cold. Freshly fallen snow crunched under their feet as they left the car and the road behind.

“Of course. One of the Earl’s woodman was fired earlier this year. Tarkin claimed he smiled too much. Two weeks ago, he got pissed at Baze and Chirrut’s and kept going on and on about the Earl’s special grove of fir trees, perfect for Christmas trees. Apparently, Tarkin sends one of them to every monarch or aristocrat in the world. One of his many small tricks to kiss their arses.”

She laughed. “He was really dead drunk, but his brain was still working and after some gentle prodding from Chirrut, told him exactly where to find these trees. Just a bit further, AH, there!”

Stepping past two large trees, they found a gap in the forest. Stretching out before them was said grove, surrounded by a fence that served mainly as a boundary and not as means to keep people from entering it. The trees were very fine indeed, maybe a bit too large for the ordinary living room, but for the Erso home, they were a perfect fit.

Cassian had to admit, Jyn had planned it well. Three people would be enough to carry the tree back to the car and if Bodhi made himself thin in the backseat, they would manage to squeeze it in without damaging it. Also, two of them could hack it down while one held the light and kept watch for unpleasant surprises.

He asked her why they didn’t wait for Kay to return from Cambodia. After all, their six foot four friend would have been more than helpful in such an endeavour. Neither Jyn, nor Bodhi or Cassian were giants. All of them were stronger than they looked, but still.

Jyn just made a face. She and Kay had gotten off to a rocky start, but after one event neither of them would talk about, they had grown to like each other. Still, Jyn’s more ambitious plans (mildly put) did not meet Kay’s approval.

“He would have been a killjoy,” she murmured, but without the heat she once would have had when she talked about his best friend. And she was right. Kay would have probably told them the statistical probability of getting caught. (And would have helped them anyway, even just so he could claim that “you’re far too stupid and I don’t want to have to visit your funeral because Jyn got you killed.”)

It took them just two or three minutes to find the right tree (Jyn insisted the one destined for the Queen of England herself was the one) and while a nervous, but quiet Bodhi held the light, Jyn and Cassian expertly used their axes to cut through the thick trunk. Under their hits, the wood soon gave away.

Transporting the tree was a bit more challenging. Bodhi took the lead, followed by Jyn and Cassian volunteered to bring up the rear. Each position had its drawbacks. Bodhi had to carry the tree and illuminate the way, Jyn was caught between spiky branches and Cassian saw not much more than her and would tumble into them if Bodhi decided to stop suddenly. Nevertheless, the “Three Musketeers” as Chirrut once called them, navigated their way back through the woods and to their car.

Making it fit into their vehicle was the greatest challenge they faced.

“Push!”

“No, no, wait!”

“For heaven’s sake, Jyn, what now?”

“You don’t want to leave scratches, do you?”

“Guys, please, can we hurry up?”

“Easy, Bodhi, we don’t want to lose it while driving? All our hard work would have been for nothing.”

“Now!”

“No, wait!”

“But…

“You have to, yes!”

“Perfect.”

* * *

No, groundskeeper had decidedly not been Orson Krennic’s dream job.

But in a world where connections counted, a self-made man had to live long enough to get a shot at his dreams. That was why he worked for the insufferable Earl Tarkin. From the first minute on, Tarkin had thought little of Krennic, a man clearly beneath him, and treated him with no respect, constantly diminishing his achievements.

But working for Tarkin also had its upsides. On the rare occasions he was invited to one of the Earl’s social gatherings, Krennic had found ways to talk to some of the important people the Earl courted, unbeknownst to his employer. For now, it wasn’t enough. But one day, Tarkin would deeply regret not realizing what a brilliant mind he had under his employ. On this day, Krennic would make sure Tarkin had enough time to comprehend who had been the architect of his downfall. And then he would crush him.

For now, he marched through the cold and dark woods, two black dogs at a short leash. Under another master, both could have been fine animals, loyal and kind to people who treated them well and a nightmare for those who tried to harm them. Under Krennic’s cruel knout, they were relentlessly trained to attack everything that moved. Be it a rabbit or a trespasser.

Krennic hated being treated like dirt, but unfortunately, this made him bitter and treat people he thought below him the same way. In the last twelve months, two poor souls had had the misfortune on trespassing on the Earl’s ground. One had been a tourist from continental Europe who’s car had broken down on the country road. In a feeble attempt to find help, he had stumbled through the woods and had been nearly mauled by Krennic’s dogs when they found him. Krennic had done little to call them back and only when he thought that the whole incident could turn sour if the tourist would be damaged too badly, he intervened. He threw the trembling man in his landrover and drove him to the small shack he used to take shelter during his patrols. There, the man had shivered for two hours until the police arrived.

Krennic found out later that Tarkin had sued the man. And won.

Another one was a poor hobo. After Krennic delivered him slightly damaged to the Earl, he hadn’t heard of him anymore. Perhaps the poor soul had indeed found his way to the infamous dungeon.

Tonight, he had a feeling like something might happen and his instinct was rewarded when he reached the Christmas tree grove. For a moment, he had a good laugh. The Queen’s tree stolen. It would be quite a humiliation for Tarkin. But his laughter died when he realized that the tree had been spirited away on his watch.

If he didn’t catch anyone, it might be him who would get a trip to the dungeons.

He bared his teeth and bellowed in a voice bare of humanity. “Mors! Astrum! Get them!”

With an angry bark the beasts ran towards the woods, their master in tow.

* * *

All of them heard the noises of the dogs. Bodhi grew pale and for all her bravado, even Jyn seemed a bit unwell. Cassian had no plans to meet the guardians of the forest either and it was him who took charge, hastening towards the driver’s door. Bodhi more or less threw himself next to the tree in the open trunk of the car while Jyn rushed for the passenger seat.

Their luck was beastly though. When Cassian tried to start the car, it just grumbled a bit and went silent.

“Gas?” Was his first question, but Jyn shook her head.

“Still half full.”

“Battery flat?”

“After driving for over an hour and standing here for twenty-five minutes? Don’t think so.”

Cassian tried it again as the barks got louder. Still, the car didn’t move.

Bodhi’s voice in the back sounded utterly resigned. “Oh, no. Oh, no, oh no. Jyn, why do I always find myself getting roped into your ludicrous plans?”

“Because you enjoy it?” Jyn shot back.

“We will have to revisit this statement when we are chained to the wall of some cold, dark dungeon.”

Jyn’s retort was cut off by a sound that never had and would never again sound so beautiful. The engine finally agreed to resume her duty.

No a second too soon. Two black dogs shot out of the woods, chasing the car as it slowly picked up speed. Behind them, Cassian caught a glimpse of a tall man, perhaps fifty years old, angrily wielding a nasty looking shotgun over his head. But he refrained from aiming a shot at the car.

Jyn gave them a grin that looked a bit like she was drunk. “See? No reason to worry. Without a little scare, it wouldn’t have been that much fun. He hasn’t seen us and he couldn’t read the licence plate either. No reason to be worried at all.”

“You and I have a very different idea of fun,” Bodhi murmured.

But two kilometres later, they were all laughing and congratulating each other on their spectacular heist.

(Years later, Bodhi would claim the “Great Tree Heist of 17” was his favourite winter story.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you realized what the Latin names of Krennic's dogs are. ;)


End file.
